Inspiration.

There's a wind that sweeps through the day and night, And like the lightning goes, But none have heard the sound of its wings, And none know whither it blows; But where'er it comes the thoughts of men Are like clouds together hurled, As they are carried with mystic speed Over the crazy world. We see no waving of leafy boughs, Nor heave of the purple sea; When this wind its fiercest blows, the Earth May be still as the dead men be; But the spirit feels its fiery breath And the souls of men are stirr'd, As o'er the mesmeric lines of life Is flashed the magic word. The gale from the Spirit-land blows in, And they who feel it glow With an ecstasy and ardour like The seers of long ago — The vital and inspiring breath With which ideas are sown, Like visioned seeds, in the mystic soil Where the spirit-flowers are grown!